


The Beginning of a New Pseudo Relationship

by Tia



Series: Slow Burn - the series [2]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tia/pseuds/Tia
Summary: Related one shots and scenes for 'Slow Burn' that don't fit directly into the timeline of the story.
Relationships: Emily Foster/Matthew Casey FRIENDSHIP, Stella Kidd/Kelly Severide, Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Series: Slow Burn - the series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667530
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	The Beginning of a New Pseudo Relationship

“Good crowd tonight!” Casey called over the lively buzz, going for a drink of his beer and narrowly avoiding having the bottle knocked out of his hand by a careless patron.

“Rivalry game and homecoming was tonight at the University,” Herrmann replied from farther down the bar, rolling his eyes expressively. “We’re getting the overflow from GameDay.”

“Hey, I’ll take it.” Foster joined their conversation from where she was mixing drinks. “No quicker way to get back into the swing of things than with practice.” She finished with the cocktails, passing the glasses over and accepting the cash and tip with a nod and a wink.

“You look like you’re settling in pretty nicely,” Casey observed, a bit impressed with the efficient way that she moved around the limited space.

“Yeah well, drunk frat boys and tipsy sorority sisters helped pay my way through med school. You can only make money as fast as you make drinks, and I made a lot of money.”

He toasted her with his bottle in silent agreement, making her grin. “You’re definitely more entertaining to watch than the Bears right now.” He grimaced as the quarterback went down hard under a pile of bodies. “He’s gonna feel that in the morning.”

“Bet he’s feeling it right now, or else that Lions D is gonna keep reminding him,” Foster replied with a laugh.

Casey raised his brows at her. “Lions fan?”

She winked at him as she stuffed more money in her tip jar. “Born and raised, baby. My dad was a season ticket holder for a long time, until he moved to Atlanta and jumped ship to the Falcons.” Her tone and expression of absolute disgust made him laugh. “I’m still loyal to my Lions, but I’ve had to bandwagon on with da Bears to survive football season at 51.”

“At least you didn’t venture over to the Cheeseheads.”

She snorted. “Please. That’s sacrilege. Besides, no one looks good in that hideous yellow, and Aaron Rogers is a dick.”

Casey threw his head back and laughed, feeling the first bit of genuine amusement in a long time. “Severride is an Eagles fan,” he tattled, knowing that would get a rise out of her. “Want to come over for the Lions/Eagles game next weekend? Kidd doesn’t care about football so she sides with him out of loyalty, so I need some backup.”

And having another person around might help restore a sense of normalcy around the apartment. It had been barely a month since the Arnow factory fire that had killed Otis, but Casey was still feeling the repercussions, personally and professionally. Otis had been the second firefighter killed while under his command, and although he knew logically that he was not at fault, emotionally he still felt responsible and a lingering sense of guilt that just wouldn’t fade.

He was dealing with it, but Severride had taken to not quite hovering and had sent Squad off on separate searches while he stayed with Casey himself during the last few fires. Casey knew that the other man was just watching his back, protecting them both the best way he knew how, but the tip toeing and muted conversations at home were getting old, fast.

When Foster didn’t immediately reply, he sent her an exaggeratedly pleading look. “Please, Foster. Save me from the ridiculousness that is Kelly Severride during an Eagles game.” He paused. “Or at least come help me rile him up even more.”

She laughed, her dark curls bouncing around her face. “Okay fine! Just stop with the sad face, Capt. Put the baby blues away, sheesh.” Shaking her head, she switched out his empty beer bottle for another one. “Text me and remind me so I can put it in my calendar.”

“Such a millennial,” he teased as he pulled out his phone.

She rolled her eyes at him as she moved down the bar to help Herrmann. Casey grinned, returning his attention to the Bears game.

“Hey, they finally got another hot bartender in here instead of that crotchety old dude and the weird mustache guy.”

Foster gritted her teeth, praying for patience as the frat boy’s drunken comment caused a round of equally loud drunken guffaws and snickers from his friends. “What can I get you boys?” She said briskly, noticing Casey watching them carefully. She caught his eye and gave a tiny shake of her head. She could handle this.

“How about some beers and your phone number, hotness,” Lead Frat Boy leered, his beady gaze travelling boldly over her body. “Damn girl! You are totally wasted in this shit hole dive bar. You should totally come shake it over at GameDay. We’ll make it worth your while.”

“Not interested,” she replied shortly, moving away.

“Aww, don’t tell me you have a boyfriend,” he complained, reaching over the bar to grab her.

She gasped as Casey was suddenly there, and Frat Boy was gasping for air, having been slammed down on the bar top, his arm twisted up high against his back. “That answer your question?” She said lightly.

Casey thumped Frat Boy lightly one more time against the counter, just to reinforce the message, before releasing and shoving him away. “Word of advice, kid. Don’t continue to hit on or grab at a woman after they’ve clearly stated that they weren’t interested. Especially in a firefighter bar.”

The kid nodded vigorously, mumbling something to his friends before stumbling away.

“Huh. Not bad technique, Casey.” Jay Halstead drawled appreciatively, having watched the entire thing. “You ever get tired of fighting fires, you let me know. You’d made a hell of a cop.”

Casey rolled his eyes at the detective as Atwood snickered next to him. “There’s no bribe in the world big enough to convince me to work under the same roof as Hank Voight,” he retorted dryly. “I’ll stick to running into burning buildings, thanks.” He paused, letting a brief smirk show. “That was kind of fun though.”

Halstead laughed, clapping him on the shoulder before going to join Burgess where she was having a lively conversation with Cruz and Ritter.

Casey turned back to look at Foster, who offered a slightly wobbly smile. “You okay, Emily?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Just need a minute. Frat boys weren’t quite so aggressive in Detroit.”

“Hey, go sit down,” Herrmann ordered, waving her away to the seat next to Casey. “It’s about last call anyway, and I can handle closing.” He smiled warmly at her, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. “You did good, kid. I’ll have to talk with Stella, but I think we can work you right into the schedule, no problem.” He watched as she walked around the bar to collapse in the stool before turning away to get her a glass of water. “And since Casey took over Dawson’s share of Molly’s, and Baba gave Cruz enough money to buy out Otis’s share, we can actually get back to making some money.”

Foster turned to Casey in surprise. “Since when did you become part owner of a bar?” She teased as he reddened slightly.

“Last year,” he admitted. “I told Gabby the night that she left that I’m a Chicago guy, so I figured that it was time to put my money where my mouth was and actually invest in something long term. Besides,” his grin turned mischievous. “Now I get the owner’s discount and we can still reap the benefits out of Mouch. He drinks a lot more than I do.”

“I love the man dearly, but Amen to that,” Herrmann called with a grin from the other end of the bar.

“Well, congratulations on your investment,” Foster offered. “And I promise that I will only ask for a raise maybe three times a year. Five, tops.”

Casey laughed. “All salary negotiations go through my Executive Manager and CEO over there,” he replied. “I’m a silent partner.”

“And occasional bouncer,” she added, nudging him companionably. “Thanks for the rescue, by the way. I swear, I need to buy a fake wedding ring to wear while I’m working, but even that doesn’t stop a lot of them.”

He frowned. “Well, if you have any other encounters like tonight, send ‘em my way,” he offered spontaneously. “I have no problem playing the fake boyfriend. I might occasionally lean on you to return the favor, actually.”

She cocked her head, eyeing him curiously. “Not interested in wading back into the dating pool with the piranhas?”

He grimaced. “Not particularly. The CFD isn’t that large of a community, and first responders gossip worse than teenagers, so word has gotten around that Gabby and I are divorced and she’s not coming back.”

“Ah. And Stella is dating Severride, Brett is in Fowlerton, and you are left here without a female shield to hide behind from all the dragons and cougars that have come prowling around,” she teased as he scowled. “But who could blame them, really?”

“Foster—”

“CFD Truck Captain, former Alderman, multiple awards and commendations, plus, you’re kind of hot.” She took a chance and poked at his arm, letting out a wolf whistle when he automatically flexed his bicep under her prodding.

“Will you stop?” he laughed, twisting away. “Are you going to help me or not?”

She studied him for a moment. Tonight was the first time that she had seen him genuinely happy and laughing in a while, though she secretly wasn’t sure if he was missing Brett or Otis more. Still, if she could help him out in this one little way, how could she say no? She knew the amount of trust that he was offering in his request, as well as the silent opportunity to come into the inner circle at 51 instead of remaining somewhat on that outside.

“Well,” she began. “As admittedly hot as you are, you really aren’t my type.” She paused as his face fell a bit. “But, I’m in. Fake dates to the rescue!” She exclaimed brightly, striking a superhero pose as he laughed. “Sorry, I think I was channeling Sylvie for a minute there. But anyway, yes. Consider me your fake date for all official and family functions and activities that may require a partner of the opposite sex.”

“So formal and official.” He smirked.

“Never done this before.” She shrugged. “This feels very teen rom com, Casey. Should we write up a contract? Practice holding hands so we don’t get that dread sweaty palm thing they’re always talking about in movies? Choreograph a spontaneous dance number to perform at the next big school dance? I wouldn’t mind that, only if we get Usher to DJ.”

“Have you always been this ridiculous, or is this a new thing?”

She grinned at his exasperation. “Only child syndrome. The only examples I have of siblings and platonic friends are on television. Same for you?”

His smile dimmed slightly. “No, I have an older sister but we aren’t that close. No brothers, unless you count Severride’s bossy ass.”

“If I count Severride’s ass in any capacity, Stella will have my ass.”

“Okay, stop talking about ass.”

“You started it,” she countered, as they grinned at each other. “Matt Casey, I do believe that this is the beginning of a beautiful, fake, totally platonic relationship/friendship…thing.”

They solemnly toasted and clinked, draining their glasses just as Herrmann yelled for last call.

“C’mon,” Casey said, standing up. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Foster narrowed her eyes at him. “I’d argue, but even I can now recognize the Captain voice coming out.”

He chuckled, slightly bitterly as they pulled on their jackets. “Why can’t my firefighters learn as quickly as you?”

She snorted, looping her arm companionably in his as they called good night to Herrmann and stepped out into the cold February night. “Everyone in that house loves you and would do anything to protect you. You know that, right?” She tugged him to a stop when he didn’t immediately answer. “Matt?”

“I’m the Captain. I’m supposed to protect them – you, Brett.” The words burst out of him, riddled with guilt and frustration. “Not the other way around.”

Foster stared at him. “Are you hearing yourself right now?” She said finally, disbelief clear in her voice. “Casey, how long have you worked at 51?”

“Eight years. Since I made Lieutenant.” He answered automatically.

“And who currently in the house, besides Ritter, has not served directly under you over those eight years?” she continued. “I’ll tell you: Severride, Capp, Tony, and the guys on Engine. And even they yield to your orders without question as needed, and they probably have done so for years. You trained them all, Casey, directly or indirectly. So why would you ever think for one second that they wouldn’t follow you to hell and back, and do everything in their power to prevent you from disappearing into the darkness in the first place?” She shrugged, shooting him a fierce glare. “You may lead them, but that doesn’t mean you’re alone up front.” She paused for a moment to let that sink in before continuing more gently. “That includes me and Brett too, in case you were wondering. We went into that building willingly, aware of the danger, but also knowing that you would have taken every precaution to keep us safe before calling us in. The floor collapse and Otis’s death were not your fault, Casey. Your training and leadership is the reason why we got as many out as we did.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “If I hug you right now, would that be violating the terms of our imaginary fake dating contract? I haven’t watched enough teen rom coms to know for sure.”

Foster groaned in exasperation as he grinned, pulling her into his arms for a heartfelt hug. She felt him relax, melting into her for a precious moment, before he straightened and tried to draw away. Her arms tightened. “Nope,” she mumbled. “Brett made me a hugger, so we’re staying like this for a bit longer.” She buried her face in his jacket. “Plus, you’re like hugging a warm cement pole, and you have really nice cologne. As the fake girlfriend, I approve.”

She felt his soft laugh rumble through his chest, filling her with warmth, before she pulled away. “C’mon, Capt,” she said lightly. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“We’re already at your car, Em. I parked across the street from you.” He pointed out, gesturing.

“Oh.” She glanced at her car and then up at him before leaning impulsively up on her toes to peck him on the cheek. “You’re a good man, Matt Casey. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Just doing my job as the fake boyfriend platonic older brother type person.” He replied lightly, holding her car door open as she got in. “Thanks Emily. I guess I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime.” She waited until he was across the street before rolling down her window to yell, “Text me when you get home!”

His laughter lingered in the air as he drove away.


End file.
